With a sudden motion, Bu Lao Tian Mo raised his left palm and struck forth. A violent gust of force shot straight toward Master Liaoyin's lower abdomen. The monk pivoted gracefully, employing the Grand Shifting Body Technique, deftly dissolving the incoming power. At the same instant, his own left palm glided forward in silence, striking directly at his foe.
Bu Lao Tian Mo countered without pause. His hands crossed in a blur, and with a sharp motion he cleaved downward, unleashing yet another surge of force. Tilting his head to evade, he moved like a flying arrow, pressing forward with relentless speed.
Cheers erupted from all directions.
Master Liaoyin's movements were exquisite—his footwork swift, his techniques refined, his internal strength vast and unyielding. Since mastering the Undying Demonic Art, Bu Lao Tian Mo had never encountered such a formidable opponent. Yet this battle allowed no defeat. Should he fall, the so-called Righteous Alliance would collapse at once, and justice would forever remain in the hands of those who merely claimed virtue.
Fortunately for him, the Demonic Art granted inexhaustible power—strength that only grew with use.
At first, Master Liaoyin fought with four parts defense and six parts offense. But after more than two hundred exchanges, he began to falter. His true qi grew turbulent and impure; his strength waned. Forced to adapt, he shifted to six parts defense and four parts offense, striving merely to preserve himself. His figure darted and wove, parrying left and right, evading blow after blow.
But fate showed no mercy.
A cold killing intent flashed in Bu Lao Tian Mo's eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, he unleashed a storm of strikes—his palms crashing forth like thunder, impossibly swift. In an instant, shadows of palms filled the sky.
Master Liaoyin stood on the brink of disaster.
At that critical moment, a gray figure burst from the crowd.
"Villain! You shall not run wild!"
It was Yuan Zhi, Hall Master of Shaolin. His right palm shot upward, his body following close behind, striking with lightning speed. This was one of Shaolin's supreme arts—the Vajra Palm. Though the form appeared simple, the force within was immense, like a surging flood. Had it struck true, Bu Lao Tian Mo would surely have suffered grievous injury.
Yet the demon reacted instantly—somersaulting away, his body flowing like water. In a blink, he faced two opponents at once.
His every motion stirred howling winds. Attack and defense flowed seamlessly, without the slightest delay. Suddenly he roared, raising hand and foot in unison. His power surged severalfold.
From within his sleeves, his inner force gathered. With a technique of "One Mind, Two Uses," he struck simultaneously—his left index finger darting forward, his right palm lashing out.
After but a brief clash—
Two muffled groans rang out.
His finger struck Yuan Zhi squarely at the Shanzhong Acupoint, the vital nexus of internal energy. At the same time, his palm landed upon Master Liaoyin's abdomen.
Gasps erupted from the crowd. All stood frozen in shock.
Bu Lao Tian Mo swept his gaze across the assembly, his expression cold and proud.
"Shaolin has already fallen in this contest. You lack the strength to stop the return of the Martial Demon. If you refuse to accept it—step forward and try your luck. I shall be waiting."
At once, several Shaolin warrior monks rushed forward, carrying the injured Yuan Zhi and Master Liaoyin back to safety.
This fierce battle revealed not only the terrifying might of Bu Lao Tian Mo, but also the profound cultivation of Shaolin's masters. Yet his overwhelming dominance and merciless cruelty sent a chill through every heart present.
The storms of the martial world had risen once more.
And the struggle between righteousness and evil had only just begun.
Yet Bu Lao Tian Mo, who spoke endlessly of absolving the Martial Demon and urging Shaolin to follow the Bodhisattva's path—cutting flesh to feed the eagle, sacrificing the self to save the tiger—had now struck down Shaolin's two greatest masters without hesitation.
How could Chief Monk Ben Guang endure such humiliation?
His eyes blazed with fury as he stepped forth.
"Demon fiend, stirring chaos in the world—this old monk shall test your skills!"
Before his words had even faded, he leapt forward. His opening move was the Twin Blossoms Through the Hands, chanting aloud:
"Distinguish good from evil with uplifted hands,
Through flowers left and right—none can withstand!"
Their clash was dazzling. The gathered heroes erupted into applause.
Ben Guang, second only to the Abbot in rank, wielded palm in his left hand and fist in his right. His force surged like a rainbow across the heavens. Bu Lao Tian Mo blocked downward with his left palm, then drew an arc with his right hand before turning it into a fist, striking toward Ben Guang's left flank.
Ben Guang twisted at the waist, chanting:
"Step forth with the right, elbow strikes the ribs,
Left pushes, right presses—toward the chest it drives!"
His palm shot out instantly—this was Shaolin's supreme technique, the Great Stele-Smashing Palm.
The explosive force of this art was terrifying, a discipline of both internal and external mastery—capable of splitting mountains and shattering stone.
Yet Bu Lao Tian Mo leapt back, sneering coldly.
"Shaolin's arts are famed throughout the world… but alas—"
He paused, a fleeting trace of melancholy crossing his face.
Ben Guang frowned. "Alas what?"
The demon let out a cold laugh.
"Your technique is impressive—but your internal strength is lacking. It seems you have not practiced diligently."
Ben Guang held a position of great authority within the temple, burdened with countless affairs. His cultivation had indeed fallen short of his former days. Yet for the honor of Shaolin, he had no choice but to fight.
The wind howled across the arena.
The two exchanged fierce blows, their palm strikes cracking like thunder. Both factions withdrew to the edges, watching with rapt attention.
Ben Guang knew well—this Undying Demon was no lesser evil than the Martial Demon himself. With Liaoyin and Yuan Zhi already defeated, Shaolin could not retreat.
He drew himself upright and roared:
"Demon—prepare to die!"
With a slanted advance, he gathered his internal force. Extending two fingers of his left hand, he released an invisible stream of qi, shooting straight toward his opponent.
Bu Lao Tian Mo shifted aside, letting the force pass. The qi struck a nearby tree—its leaves instantly scattering into the air.
This was Shaolin's supreme art—the Maha Finger Technique.
The righteous side burst into cheers.
But in the next instant, Bu Lao Tian Mo spun sharply. His left palm shot forth, releasing an invisible wave of force. At the same time, Ben Guang drew in a breath and struck with his own palm.
Two streams of qi collided midair—
Boom!
Dust exploded outward. Shockwaves rippled through the crowd, forcing all to stagger back.
Ben Guang's heart trembled.
"This demon's internal strength… is unfathomable. Even the Maha Finger cannot gain advantage!"
Bu Lao Tian Mo merely sneered.
"Shaolin's supreme arts are nothing more than this. Today, I shall show you… what true martial supremacy is."
Before the words had fully fallen, his figure surged forward once more. His palms roared like thunder, his techniques growing ever more ferocious.
Ben Guang struggled to resist, yet his strength began to fail. A bitter thought rose within him:
"Must Shaolin truly fall to this demon today?"
At that very moment—
A clear Buddhist chant echoed from afar:
"Amitabha!"
A figure descended like a soaring swan, entering the battlefield with serene authority.
It was none other than the Abbot of Shaolin—
Master Liao Kong.